


The Thrill of the Fight

by frickfrackonthemoon (shooponthemoon)



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Gang World, Fights, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 11:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3132914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shooponthemoon/pseuds/frickfrackonthemoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: AoKaga mafia AU<br/>This will mostly be centered around them being underground fighters for the mafia, and the mature warning is (hopefully) for chapter 3.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Thrill of the Fight

**Author's Note:**

> Fic title from the chorus of "Eye of the Tiger" since I'm clearly too lazy to think of my own stuff :P
> 
> Hahaha I am completely unable to write short one-shots, clearly, as this has morphed into the beginning of a multi-chaptered fic. We'll see how it goes, but I'm hoping to be able to wrap it up in 4 chapters, at worst the rest of the chapters will be a bit longer than this one hehe ;D
> 
> This first chapter is quite a bit of "worldbuilding" and is mostly Aomine-centric, sorry if that bothers anybody!

_Rising up, back on the street_  
 _Did my time, took my chances_  
 _Went the distance, now I'm back on my feet_  
 _Just a man and his will to survive_

_~Eye of the Tiger_

* * *

 

Aomine absolutely loved his life as a member of the Akashi family mafia. He got to be lazy in the mornings, got paid rather well just to intimidate and rough people up, and most evening he still had time to swing by the basketball courts for a couple of hours before heading back home to pig out and fall asleep. He enjoyed being feared and respected as one of Akashi’s top men. Though this was part of the reason why he _was_ part of Akashi’s inner circle, he was also the boss’s top fighter and regarded as the one to beat at the underground MMA-style fighting matches that went on every week.

And those weekly meetings were a sight to behold: criminals and mafia leaders from across the city, eating, drinking, and gambling together as they watched the fights, placing bets on their own fighters and anybody else they thought would have the upper hand that night.

Normally, nobody dared to overstep the boundaries into another gang or mafia family’s territory, for fear of starting something unpleasant. In Akashi’s case, people were well aware that if anybody messed with one of his men, retaliation would be swift and ruthless. But during those underground fights, everybody watched on as equals. Well, everybody but Aomine, perhaps. He definitely lived up to his motto – _the only one who can beat me is me_ – as he had gone undefeated so far, and wore his smug confidence for all to see.

In a way, fighting made up for the disappointment Aomine went through with basketball. Still naturally talented as ever, Aomine found that fighting came easily to him, but unlike basketball, the stakes were much higher, so a fight always got his heart pumping with adrenaline. Every match was like a one-on-one, and there were always new challengers to face, rival mafia members to be put in their places, and old contenders with grudges that needed to be taught a lesson once and for all.

When he’d first started winning all of his matches, he was worried that things would start to get boring, like they had with basketball, but he quickly found that there were always new techniques to learn and new fighters who brought their own styles into the ring. Aomine had yet to walk away from a victory thinking it had been dull. Beneath him, sometimes, if the fighter was especially weak or stupid, but things could turn life-or-death at any moment in this world, and vigilance kept him alert and on his toes.

A good thing too, as one disgruntled opponent had once pulled a knife on him, and only his fast reflexes had saved him from getting his throat slashed before the other guy was taken down and his body tossed into the back of a non-descript black car. He still had a faint scar on his neck from where the blade had passed, close enough to mark but not enough for any real lasting damage.

Akashi had _not_ been pleased when they’d left that night, and the dead fighter’s small organization had paid dearly for his impudence over the next couple of days. Now, fighters were even more thoroughly checked before entering the ring, and everybody knew that as Akashi sat there watching, a single glance towards his hulking, ever-present guard Murasakibara was all it would take for any cheaters to be shot and disposed of.

The number of fights per night varied on the number of fighters in decent condition that week, and how many interesting match-ups could be created from that group. In general nobody wanted to see the same two people fight each other week after week, so it could take months before any two fighters got a re-match, a system which Aomine definitely liked.

About a third of the group of fighters were those like him who belonged to one of the mafia families or other criminal organizations, and whose profits from winning the fights went back to the family, though in Aomine’s case his winnings help pay for his gym time and coaches and to keep Satsuki as his part-time manager.

Amoine’s friend since childhood, she had been strongly against this lifestyle in the beginning (and probably still was, though she hid her discontent better these days), but Akashi had quickly recognized her talent and had hired her in a very prominent position. Her eyes saw and analyzed all that happened within the city, and she reported directly to Akashi. She also kept track of all of the fighters’ stats and provided Aomine with her insights and potential strategies before every match.

The second third of the fighters made up, with the first, the core of the regular group. These were the seasoned independent fighters, fighting mostly for money and for fun. Many were ex-MMA fighters or kickboxers or other such martial artists looking for a way to keep in shape and earn some cash. Some were even full-time workers with families looking to feel that adrenaline rush every once in a while, to get away from their stable lives and partake in this slightly dangerous “hobby”. A lot of these guys were older than Aomine, but in general he got along with them well, and there was always less drama because none of them were involved with rival gangs.

The final group of fighters was always the most unpredictable. These were the younger ones, the hot-heads looking to make it big in the world, to impress the big criminals with their “skills”, to make some quick cash. Some were looking for practice before heading off to the professional leagues, and some were simply looking for an outlet for their anger and frustration. A few stuck around, even sometimes getting hired by one of the bosses or becoming an independent themselves. But most of them were young and stupid, coming in with big egos and leaving with broken bones and bruises. Most never returned after their first fight.

Though fighting did not bore him, Aomine still felt that old itch for a real challenge, for somebody who would never back down and keep coming back for more. Kise had been improving lately, but since he was just another one of Akashi’s fighters, their matches were more for show (and for raking in the cash) than anything else. Because the underground bar they always fought at belonged to the Akashi mafia, all of the “in-house” games between two of their fighters were usually just the opening event for the night, to drum up the excitement, get people drinking, and hopefully placing more bets than usual.

The odds of his matches were always tipped in Aomine’s favour, especially when the challenger was a newbie, but there were always the few every time who would bet against him, just in case _this_ match was the one, that _this_ fighter would finally be the one to take down the “Ace”. There wasn’t much to gain betting _for_ Aomine (as it was a fairly safe bet to make), but so far he had never lost, and always made substantial profits off the backs of those few hopefuls who would always bet against him.

After a particularly bloody match, Akashi had summoned him, Satsuki, and Tetsu to see him for an important meeting. Tetsu was a shadow agent for the family, and was talked of but never seen by any of their rival organizations. Aomine had actually been the one to bring him into the family, and the two had always gotten along rather well. Recently, however, Tetsu hadn’t been around headquarters very much, always off on missions and the like, and Aomine found that he’d been missing the Shadow’s presence – though lack-of-presence was more accurate, as the light-blue-haired man had a tendency to sneak up on everybody completely unnoticed, like a ghost.

Aomine sat on the office couch, grumpily letting Midorima, the personal doctor for Akashi’s inner circle, ice his bruises and clean the gash on his cheek. His opponent had also given him a vicious bit to the arm, and that had yet to fully stop bleeding despite the doctor’s efforts, and no thanks to Aomine’s inability to cooperate and sit still. Momoi kept glaring daggers at him from the other side of the room, and he cheekily stuck his tongue out at her, which only made her glare some more.

“Thank you for coming,” said Akashi when he finally walked in, Murasakibara in tow munching away at a bag of chips. Midorima finally finished with Aomine’s arm, sighed as he stood up and left, giving Akashi a nod as he went out the door.

“Don’t you dare start with any ‘You must be wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today’ bullshit, Akashi,” Aomine said with a smirk. He swore he saw the corners of Tetsu’s lips quirk up at that.

“Don’t be rude, Dai-chan!” huffed Satsuki as she crossed her arms. She seemed about to say more but Akashi raised a hand, pacifying them both into silence.

“It’s fine, Momoi. Aomine, this new strategy of ours concerns you in particular, so it would be best for you to listen. You recall about a year ago when the Kirisaki Daiichi first joined us at the underground fights, and shortly afterwards started entering some of their own men, do you not?” Aomine nodded; Hanamiya was a crime lord whose small gang was quickly gaining ground in the seedy part of town where they were based. His fighters were all cunning, loyal, and exceedingly ruthless, and had sent many of the others, including some of the long-time veterans, to the hospital in not-very-promising conditions.

“I’ve never liked the man, and I trust his intentions even less,” their boss continued. “Since their arrival, violence during the fights has steadily escaladed, and not just from their own fighters, but now others too are resorting to tactics that injure fighters much more than what is necessary to win a single fight.” The shorter man had stood to pace behind his desk as he talked, a slight scowl on his features.

“I want them gone,” he declared, looking at each of those present in turn. “However, the matter is a bit more complex than simply banishing the Kirisaki Daiichi from the fights, as I suspect he has won over some of the independents, using threats or bribes or both, and implanted some of his own men disguised as new up-and-comers. Hanamiya’s organization is still small, and outside of the ring, we will have no problem dealing with them, but I will not stand for him corrupting and ruining something that is mine; that is _ours_. I want a list of names of all of those involved with him, so that they can all be taken care of all at once.”

The look on Akashi’s features was one Aomine had witness many times, and knew its haunting effect on the weaker-willed. He couldn’t imagine being a rival of their gang if it meant having that look directed at you every time you had to deal with Akashi. He could be truly frightening if he so desired, and Aomine grinned with excited anticipation at the chance to get rid of that snake Hanamiya and his men, imagining just how much they would squirm and whimper under his boss’s glare.

“Aomine, I want you off the streets as much as possible. Your training takes priority now, and I’ve hired a new coach who knows how to deal with the scheming types, as he is quite one himself. I have assessed his team and found them to be quite competent.” Their boss’s gaze turned from the blue-haired man to his pink-haired friend. “Momoi, you will now be working full-time as Aomine’s manager, and keeping tabs on all of the fighters and their entourages will be your most important task. I want to know everything about them: where they’re from, who they know, who they talk to, where they go to sleep at night and with whom. Their skills and training info I also want you to share with Aomine.”

As Akashi turned to Tetsu, a polite yet firm knock on the door rang out.

“Ah, your charge has arrived just in time, Kuroko,” he said with a smile. “I’ve decided to borrow one of the Kirisaki’s own tactics: we will be implementing our own independent fighters among the group to keep an ear out and report what is being said among that crowd, and perhaps even weed out some of Hanamiya’s men. You are to be this fighter’s manager, Kuroko, and I want weekly reports on his progress and anything else you manage to learn. Aomine, go open the door, why don’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replied, slowly dragging himself up from the couch and over to the door. He grumbled about having to do all of the work, and Satsuki gave him the sassiest eye roll of her life.

He paused as he grabbed the handle, stretching out an arm before bringing it over to scratch behind his ear. He took a moment to let out a lazy yawn; wouldn’t want to do _that_ right in the new guy’s face, even he knew that much was rude. When he was finally ready, he turned the handle and swung it the door open, revealing the _strangest_ pair of eyebrows he had ever seen.

But more important than the weirdly forked eyebrows of the guy standing before him – almost Aomine’s height but _just_ _a smidge_ shorter than him – was the man himself, with his wild red hair, American-brand clothes doing nothing to hide his muscled frame, and a lethal look in his dark red eyes.

“Yo,” he said simply, giving Aomine a sudden, wide grin as he stepped past the stunned Ace and into the office. Aomine made the mistake of checking him out from the back and had to turn away, taking a moment to collect himself before heading back to the others. If Satsuki had seen the blush on his cheeks right then he would never live to hear the end of it.

Aomine had known since high school that he was bi, something he’d eventually confided to his pink-haired friend – an admission which had in fact brought the two of them closer in the end, helping to mend a few of the bridges he’d broken back when he’d been a selfish asshole (which he still was, he admitted, but less horribly so). In general he’d never had many problems with it, since not many of the other fighters were actually his type, and he was known for being a boobs maniac anyways (he bet that half the guys there thought Satsuki was his girlfriend or something, never realizing she was actually his manager).

But this guy was something else. The initial aggression in that gaze had lit a fire in Aomine, and he wanted nothing more than to go one-on-one with him, either in the ring, on the court, or even in the bedroom. But what had really slayed him was the youthfulness of his sudden smile as he’d walked past, the kind of smile Aomine remembers making as a kid, before the world of basketball had let him down.

The combination of that fierce look of his, amazing-looking body, and butterfly-inducing smile foreshadowed doom for Aomine’s heart, and the blue-haired man sunk back into his spot on the couch, he idly wondered what would be the true death of him: Hanamiya’s men or the redhead.

Safe to say, he did not pay attention to much else that was said that day, other than taking a moment to commit the redhead’s name to memory:

_Kagami Taiga._

**Author's Note:**

> I am still taking prompts over on tumblr! (shooponthemoon)  
> Please send more, I need more inspiration!


End file.
